


i got you on my mind

by PrincezzShell101



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Telepath Stiles Stilinski, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10191653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincezzShell101/pseuds/PrincezzShell101
Summary: "Are you Stiles?"Stiles groans. He admits it is fairly immature but fuck it, he hates his life right now. He wishes everyone would just go away and stop pestering him."No. I'm not. I'm 'Leave Me Alone'," he gripes, pulling at his hair aggressively. He hears the person snort. He looks up, nostrils flaring. "Seriously, dude. Leave me the fuck alo—"His brain just—stops. Warranted, it never does that. But this stranger is beyond-this-universe level of hot.Dark black hair, light yet murky grey-green-brown-blue (what the fuck???) eyes, jawline that could give him a paper cut if he touched it, and bulging arm muscles under the tight-knitted maroon sweater the guy is wearing.He coughs, swallows, tries to not make a fool of himself. "Actually, yes. I am Stiles. How may I service you—fuck! I mean, how may I be of service?" He face-palms. Epic. Fail.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, I got this idea after reading two tumblr 'Telepathy AU's' prompts and I wanted to combine them. They were -
> 
> 1\. 'Although all these lovesick kids offering to pay for my services on their crushes may be worth it. Hey I know you, you're cute. Your crush you say? Oh they totally don't like you. Nah man, you're barking up the wrong tree right there.'
> 
> 2\. 'Hold the fuck up. Hold up. I can read any mind that I can see, anyone and everyone's. Why can't I read yours? And why the hell are you smirking at me like that U LIL SHIT THIS MAKES NO DAMN SENSE WHO ARE YOU.'
> 
> I changed the fact that Stiles is happy about his job. He really isn't, until he is... *wink, wink*. Also I feel ashamed that I didn't incorporate the 'barking up the wrong tree' as a werewolf/dog joke but I was already halfway done when I thought of it. Damn it. Either way, I really enjoyed writing this! I hope you like it too :)

Stiles never asked for his power. Honestly, he doesn't understand. Why would the world decide, that out of the billions of other human beings on the planet, that  _he_ would be the best deemed choice to be given the ability to be able to read people's minds? Guess he's just  _that_ awesome, huh.

It had all started when he was six years old (yes, he remembers that far back, shut up). He'd been playing on the swings at the park, when all of a sudden, he'd started hearing numerous rushed voices going half a mile per second all at once, practically overlapping each other.

_"Why won't Daddy push me higher? Higher! Higher!"_

_"I hope I get ice cream today. Mummy hasn't bought me some after the park in aaaaages!"_

_"Don't understand why I'm here. I pay my bloody child support. What more does she want from me?"_

_"The sky looks nice today. I wonder if I should fly my kite."_

_"PUPPY! PUPPY! PUPPY!"_

Stiles had been in so much shock that he'd fallen from the swing, landing on his bottom. He hadn't cried, but he had cursed loudly. His first swear word.

"Hey! Swearing is not nice so—so don't do that!"

A young boy had appeared in front of him out of nowhere, just magically blinking into existence, dark hair flopping across his face and shadowing his bright brown eyes. He'd waggled his finger in Stiles's face, frowning as he'd lectured Stiles on how his mummy told him that swearing was for bad boys and that he should have a sore bottom but  _oh, you fell. You probably already have one now. Are you okay? Sorry for being mean. Mummy says being mean is not nice too. I'm Scott! What's your name?_

And yep, that's how Stiles had met Scott.

So, really, his power, ability—whatever. It isn't too bad. Over the years, he's been able to tone it down a notch and is now able to pick which person he wants to hear whenever he  _wants_ to hear them.

The problem is—people know. Scott blabbed by accident to Allison after, with Stiles's help, he'd found out she had feelings for him too. She excitedly told Lydia, who was with Jackson at the time, who then proceeded to jeer to his mates about it. Now pretty much the entire school knows and Stiles is up to his  _ears_ in people begging him to read their crushes' mind.

"Josh is  _so_ cute. Isn't he?" the girl—Jessica, he thinks—gushes. She's blushing, her eyes glazed in admiration.

Stiles blinks, bored. "Yeah, sure he is." He yawns. "You wanted me to read his mind, right?"

" _Please_ ," she says. "I have money. I can pay you for it. I just  _need_ to know if he likes me as much as I like him."

"Tough to say he'll like you  _as much as you like him_ , but—" Stiles stops, noticing that the girl has stopped blushing, or, well, the blush is still there but Stiles is sure that it's got an entirely different meaning to it now. She's angry. "Shit. Sorry. I mean,  _of course_ he'll like you as much as you like him! Just, you know, he may be less—enthusiastic about it?"

The girl sneers, standing up and flinging her hair dramatically over her shoulder. "I'm not paying for this," she seethes before strutting away, leaving Stiles sitting there and wondering why the hell he still even  _does this job_.

"Are you Stiles?"

Stiles groans. He admits it is fairly immature but  _fuck it_ , he hates his life right now. He wishes everyone would just go away and stop pestering him.

"No. I'm not. I'm 'Leave Me Alone'," he gripes, pulling at his hair aggressively. He hears the person snort. He looks up, nostrils flaring. "Seriously, dude. Leave me the fuck alo—"

His brain just—stops. Warranted, it  _never_ does that. But this stranger is beyond-this-universe level of  _hot_.

Dark black hair, light yet murky grey-green-brown-blue (what the fuck???) eyes, jawline that could give him a paper cut if he touched it, and bulging arm muscles under the tight-knitted maroon sweater the guy is wearing.

He coughs, swallows, tries to  _not_ make a fool of himself. "Actually, yes. I am Stiles. How may I service you—fuck! I mean, how may I be of service?" He face-palms.  _Epic_.  _Fail_.

The guy simply smirks.

Stiles tries to zoom in on what he's thinking, dreading what he'll find.

 _Nothing_.

Wait. That can't be right.

He tries again.

 _Still_ nothing.

"Something is seriously wrong with your head, man!" he shouts, waving his arms. "I can't read a  _single_ thing!"

The guy continues to smirk.

"Stop that!"

"Or what." The guy finally speaks, lips still pulled up in that aggravating smirk.

Stiles glares, spluttering. "Or I'll—" He doesn't know what he'll do.  _Suck his dick._   _No, brain. Not that._

"I came to you because my little sister Cora wanted me to ask you if you could read someone's mind for her," the guy says, tone carefully contrite. Stiles can tell he's still amused and totally not sorry.

Stiles shakes his head. "Nope. No way. I do  _not_  do sibling favours. If she wants me to read someone's mind, she can come to me herself."

The guy crosses his arms.

Stiles crosses his arms in imitation.  _Right back 'atcha, big guy._

"If you do it, you can suck my dick."

Stiles  _explodes_.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" he screams. People are staring. Fuck it. Let them stare. This guy just—

"You said it. I'm just repeating it," the guy says with a shrug. He's still smirking.

Stiles is  _livid_. "I did not—" he rages.

_Suck his dick. No, brain. Not that._

Oh God.

Oh my fucking God.

He  _did_.

His rage melts away, shame and utter turmoil taking its place. "How did you know?" he whines, panicked. "You—you can't have heard that!"

"I did." The guy's smirk is starting to piss him off.

Wait one second…

"You can read minds  _too_?" he snaps. "Seriously?"

The guy nods. "Yep. Pretty nifty, huh? Telepaths can block their own thoughts. Know that?" the guy says, smirk bloody  _iridescent_ as Stiles's embarrassment settles, replaced by awe.

"No  _way_. I thought I was the only one, dude."

"Don't call me dude," the guy growls, smirk actually dropping.

It's gone.

Disappeared.

Not to be seen again.

 _Noooooo. Come back_ , Stiles thinks, then curses himself for it.  _I hate this guy. Look at him. He's—oh, man, he's gorgeous._   _Damn it._

"Look," he says, aware that he is probably going to regret this. "I'll do you a solid. I read your sister's—Cora, right?—I'll read her crushes' thoughts for free and you just. You just  _not_ speak of this ever again. Deal?"

The guy stops frowning, lips tilting up into a half-smile as he uncrosses his arms. "Deal. Derek, by the way." He extends his hand.

Stiles grabs hold of it and shakes it, feeling his knees go all wobbly. "Stiles. Wait. Shit. You know that. Oh my God, why am I so bad at this."  _You fucking idiot_ , he mocks himself.

The guy—Derek— _grins_ , chuckling quietly. "Nice to meet you. So, after school, did you want to go to dinner? I promise you don't have to suck my dick," he jokes.

Stiles is the one to smirk this time. If he's going to be embarrassed, he's going to do it  _right_. "Oh, no. It would be my pleasure."

Derek chokes, blushes  _adorably_ , and Stiles offhandedly thinks that  _this_ , this right here, is why he never gave up this job.

**Author's Note:**

> To answer any questions about why Derek didn't read Cora's crushes' mind: She just was too embarrassed to have her big brother do that for her, and would have rathered Stiles, someone who isn't protective over her as Derek is, to do it. 
> 
> Also, Derek may or may not have known who Stiles was and has been wanting to ask him out for quite some time ;)


End file.
